


Young Enough

by DoctorBilly



Series: Rouge et Noir [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Billyverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dimmock and Frankie rekindle something. A bit. </p><p>Another vignette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts [ here ](http://doctor-billy.tumblr.com/post/127930952593/dimmocks-suit) and [ here ](http://doctor-billy.tumblr.com/post/125676448753/frankies-frock-and-his-old-loubis)

"Red?"

"Mm."

"It's a bit bright."

Dimmock laughs.

"You mean it's a bit _gay_."

Frankie smiles, flicking his long blond hair back over one shoulder.

"I'm used to you as a policeman, Theo. Grey overcoat, subdued colours…"

"Hm. You know that's all psychology, don't you? Be approachable, bit on the dull side, non-threatening…"

Frankie laughs.

"And inside you're a peacock all ready to shake a tail feather."

Dimmock grins, pirouettes. The red silk suit glints in the bright light of the showroom.

"Not sure peacocks _can_ shake their tail feathers, but I get your point. It is a bit… flamboyant." He looks at himself in the mirror, critically. "I've been out long enough that even the worst press vultures don't see me as news, though. I might make the Sunday papers. Best dressed. Or worst…"

"Especially if you've got me on your arm…"

"Is that an invitation?"

"I suppose it is. For old times' sake?" Frankie frowns. "Why did you ask me to come shopping with you, Theo?"

"I really did want a second opinion. An _honest_ opinion. I know I'll get that from you." Dimmock frowns. "Can I get away with this, Frankie? Is it too young?"

Frankie purses his lips, motions Dimmock to turn his back to him.

"Stand up straight. Okay, honest opinion. It looks very good from the back. Good cut, nice hang to the jacket. Turn round."

Dimmock turns.

"Are you sucking your stomach in?"

"A bit."

"Don't. You won't remember to on the day, and that's when they'll pap you. Mind you, they'll be looking at me…"

Dimmock sighs.

"I really like it…"

"Get them to ease the waistband half an inch, and wear a black shirt." Frankie smiles. "I like it too, Theo. Makes you look a bit cocky."

Dimmock laughs. "Too many bird references. But honestly, you're sure I don't look like some old geezer trying too hard to keep up with the youngsters?"

"No. And I would tell you, Theo."

 

*********

 

Dimmock takes the steps two at a time. The sound of drumming gets louder with every flight. On the second floor landing, he stops, catches his breath, knocks on the door. There is no reply. The drumming continues, a complex sequence of beats. He bangs on the door again, louder. Still no reply. " _For goodness sake, I know you're in there…_ " He pulls out his phone, thumbs in a text, sends it. Waits. Sends a second text. The door opens.

"Sorry, Theo. Had my cans on. Good job you thought to text."

"I guessed you'd have your phone set to vibrate."

Dimmock follows Frankie into the flat. Frankie removes his oversized headphones, hanging them carefully on a hook behind the door.

"Practicing?"

Frankie grins.

"Yeah. Got the playlist a couple of days ago. We'll have time for a couple of run-throughs, but I'm doing extra practice with a backing track. Don't want to muck it up."

They go through into the kitchen. Frankie switches on the kettle and makes tea.

"Will you have to provide your own drums?"

Frankie nods.

"I'm comfortable playing these. I'll have them pre-tuned, skins tightened. And I've got visual pickups for treble frequencies, stuff I don't hear too well. It's the only time I really remember how bad my hearing is."

Dimmock flushes. He still feels guilty about Frankie's hearing loss.

"Don't start that. That's been forgiven a long time, Theo."

Dimmock nods, sips his tea.

"So, what did you want me to see?"

Frankie laughs.

"Thought I'd show you what I'm planning to wear. Give you a chance to tell me you don't want to be my date."

Dimmock smiles, sits on the sofa.

"Is it a dress? It is, isn't it?"

Frankie grins and disappears into the bedroom. Dimmock sits and waits. And waits. Gets fed up waiting. Dressing is taking Frankie an age. He finishes his tea and takes the empty mug into the kitchen. The side of Frankie's fridge is covered with notes, photos, cuttings from magazines. There is a familiar-looking invitation - matt black card, metallic red edging and print. _December 22nd. Dress code red and black. RSVP._ He has an identical one on his own fridge. He notices a postcard, Cowboys, horses. He turns up a corner, enough to read a fragment of the message . "… _not possible without you. See you soon. L._ "

"Always a policeman…"

Dimmock turns. Frankie is standing in the kitchen doorway.

"What do you think?"

Dimmock swallows. Waits a beat before speaking.

"It's …"

Frankie laughs.

"It is, isn't it?"

The dress is red and black, tight fitting, deep plunging, very, very short.

"It looks as if it's all made of fringe. Move a bit…"

Dimmock catches his breath as Frankie shimmies.

"It's a Stella McCartney. Vintage. Do you remember the last time I wore Stella McCartney?"

Dimmock remembers very well. That dress had been nude silk. It had been ruined when the function they had been attending turned into a shootout. He swallows again, his voice cracks.

"I remember. God, you still look good in a frock."

"Am I still young enough to pull it off?"

"You're only thirty-two…"

"Thirty-three. Still a size eight, though." He looks down at himself, critically. "Might hang a bit better without tits."

Dimmock smiles.

"I'd fancy you more without them."

Frankie laughs out loud.

"That is because you are a _gay man_ , Theo. Although I remember…"

Dimmock blushes.

"I never really knew where to put my hands. Who's L?"

Frankie scowls.

"Change of subject. Nervous? Okay. You _know_ who L is."

"Are you still seeing him?"

"On and off, when I'm in Calgary."

"After the way he treated Bill?"

Frankie shrugs.

"I never got involved in that. He never treated me badly."

"But still…"

"He's in Canada. I see him once or twice a year. He doesn't come to London, Mycroft's made sure he can't, any more. He gave me my hearing back, Theo. He keeps an eye on my implant, and the receiver. We're not _seeing_ each other."

Dimmock flushes, his pang of jealousy evaporating. Frankie arches an elegant eyebrow.

"Anyway, aren't you and Sherlock…?"

Dimmock shakes his head.

"Not really. He gets himself involved in my work, of course. We go for a drink now and then, or go dancing. He likes dancing. We don't sleep together. Both getting a bit past it, I expect. So, who are you seeing? Still Sally?"

"Never really was. We used to go dancing a lot. She's a good dancer." He laughs. "She likes that I'm not handsy with her; she thinks I'm gay. I'm her gay best friend."

"Oh. I thought…"

"I don't think she really gets bisexuality. She does get the dresses though."

"Not everyone does, do they?"

Frankie shakes his head.

"No. They think I'm trans, or a drag queen. They can't seem to accept that I'm a bloke. I can't be arsed with explaining everything all the time. I just like to wear a dress now and then." He sighs. "People that know me get it."

Dimmock smiles.

"I like you in a dress. Always did." He grins. "Like you in leathers, too, and jeans. And suits. Whatever you wear looks good."

"Flatterer. Will you help me with my drum kit? On the day, I mean?"

"Is that all you want me for?"

Frankie smiles.

"Not all." 

**Author's Note:**

> Frankie is not trans, but he did pose as a girl for a while when he was younger. To find out more, read [Ice Blue Blond](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2007438/chapters/4350534)


End file.
